


eye contact

by LunaKat



Category: Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, battle not included, mutual animosity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaKat/pseuds/LunaKat
Summary: When a Trainer's eyes meet, the battle begins.





	eye contact

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written September 27, 2017.

She first met him at the top of Dragonspiral Tower, a mere silhouette standing at the edge of the gaping hole in the tower's wall, his form stark against the grey hibernal sky.

She was startled by his presence, because this was meant to be a secret place, a place where only the Unova Heroes were allowed to tread upon scuffed tile and ancient stone. He shouldn't be here. He was an intruder in this safe little spot of hers where she liked to look out at the horizon and daydream, revel in the silence away from the hustle and bustle of fame that came with being a Hero and an actress. It was a haven high above the world, and it was hers. Only one other person knew about it, and he had been the one to give her Zekrom, to call her a Hero and give her claim to this place.

But this was not that person, and he shouldn't be here. She wanted him out.

She approached him, and he tensed at the sound of her footsteps. When he turned to face her, his expression mirrored her own, one of a person whose private space has been violated and intruded upon.

Their eyes met.

He unleashed a Gothitelle without warning.

Rosa gritted her teeth, realizing where this was headed. When a Trainer's eyes meet, the battle begins. That was the saying.

She unleashed her Mandibuzz and screamed a command.

.

.

.

She fought with her teeth bared and her hackles raised, like an animal defending its territory. She fought ferociously, a pillar of strength and dominance, and as she did in every fight, she gave it everything she had.

But  _he_  fought like a god of war, like the chess master and warlord come together in an unholy amalgamation of shrewdness and sheer force. He had far more experience than her, and it showed, but in a such way that even a prodigy such as herself couldn't overcome. He was passionate and fearless and brilliant in each command, and it caused the breath to still inside her lungs.

When the dust settled, she had fallen in defeat, and she could nothing but stare in awe of his glory.

.

.

.

Rosa had never lost before. During the entire course of her training career, battles had always come easily to her. Victory was always with her—hovering ever-present at her side. She thrashed every active Gym Leader in Unova, conquered Neo Plasma with ease, beat Black Kyurem into submission, defeated the mighty Ghetsis, and easily swept the Elite Four. Even the Champion, an apparent battling prodigy, fell before her might, her prowess on the battlefield.

It was jarring, then, the conclusion of this match. Infuriating, actually, though she'd never admit it. Instead, she smiled politely and thanked him for the battle, the way her opponents had a thousand times before, and, on a whim, complimenting him on his amazing technique—which actually was amazing. Surprisingly versatile and unlike any Unovan style she had seen before.

"Thank you," he said smoothly. His voice curled in an odd accent that was unlike anything she'd heard, some sort of odd amalgamation of all the ones she'd heard, light and delicate. Like a silken flower, almost, if silken flowers were flat and drooping and not the least interested in what she had to say. And he held himself tall and proud, as though the world was expected to bow to him. It was making it hard to be civil.

Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Princess."

Her brow twitched, her façade of strained politeness starting to crack. The hell was that about, this name-calling? He was the winner, and there is no need to insult a graceful loser. "I'm not a princess. Don't call me that."

The way he arched a brow with deliberate slowness gave off a slight condescending vibe. She tried to ignore it. "Oh? Then what should I call you?"

"How about my name?" Rosa winced. That came out harsher than she'd intended. She kept her smile and tried to be sweeter. "It's Rosa, by the way. Rosa—"

"Rosa Alanderfer," he interrupted, so dryly that it made Desert Resort look moist in comparison, and she blinked in surprise. "Yeah, I know who you are."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "If you knew who I was, why did you challenge me?"

He scoffed, and she could hear the tinge of a laugh underneath it. "I'm not  _allowed_  to challenge you?"

"No—that's not—" Rosa slowed down, took a deep breath, and started again, trying to stay cordial and not let her growing irritation slip through. "I mean, people don't  _usually_  challenge me. On account of being intimidated and all."

He scanned her quickly, regarding her. While she liked that his gaze didn't linger on any of her femaleness, as she had come to expect of most men, she would have preferred he not look so spectacularly bored. "You're not very intimidating, princess."

Again with the princess bit! What was his  _deal_? "The intimidating bit comes from the fact that I, y'know, saved the world and all..."

At this, he laughed. He honest to god laughed. It was a light, chuckled sort of laugh, but still,  _he laughed_.

She gaped.

When he stopped, he flashed a mocking, sardonic smile that grated on her last nerve. "You say that like it's something impressive."

Her voice dropped, low and challenging. "Oh?"

"It's not, really. Not as much as you think. You're just another idiot who got caught up in something too big for you to handle." His tone was taunting, mocking. After she risked life and limb to stop the villains and prevent the region from being locked into an eternal winter,  _he was making fun of her_. "So you saved the world? Big deal. That doesn't mean you're particularly special—just that you're particularly stupid and lack a certain preservation instinct."

That was last straw.

"I don't know what your  _problem_  is," she snapped, her façade crumbling like a sandcastle and revealing the ugly indignance that bubbled underneath, "but if you are going to undermine everything that happened here in Unova over the last year, then you might as well leave the fucking region  _right now_."

He snorted a laugh, as though he'd just heard an inside joking. Something that genuinely amused him. He found her  _amusing_ , of all things, pathetic and diminutive and not worth being taken seriously.

"At least I  _did_  something!" How dare he laugh, of all things? How dare he think this was a joke? "What would  _you_  have done in that situation? Huh? 'Cause if you think it's  _such_  a stupid thing to do, why  _you_  go out and save the world—see how easy it is then!"

He laughed again—a real, genuine laugh this time—and started moving passed her. His form was dark and shadowed as it flashed across her peripheral, and she followed him with her eyes as he made his way to the staircase, still chuckling to himself.

She balled her fists and decided that, fine, she didn't want to hear his answer anyway, the stupid, cynical bastard.

But he paused at the top of the staircase and turned back to her, his eyes sharp and glinting with something feral and fractured. They are brown, she noticed, as he fixed her with a wicked, fierce smile that looked like a challenge in and of itself. "I did, actually. You just rode in on my coattails."

By the time she recovered from the shock, Touya Kokuen had already descended the staircase and vanished.

.

.

.

(She decided she hated him and everything he stood for—the Hero who vanished and left Unova to fend for itself, left her to carry his burden and tie up his loose ends. She had heard his name so many times and his memory used to give her  _hope_ , but now she finally understands. He is the man who was really a boy but venerated as a god, and gods were meant to be admired, bathed in glory and limelight and divine perfection.

Gods are also meant to stand on pedestals, and pedestals are meant to crumble into dust.)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick drabble about an alternate meeting between Rosa and Touya.


End file.
